


Light the Fire Bright

by doctorbuffypotterlock79



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Lesbian AU, Witch AU, mild violence, this exists solely because of a tik tok writ sent me and i regret nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:46:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22778908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorbuffypotterlock79/pseuds/doctorbuffypotterlock79
Summary: Brooke is a witch living in the woods when she happens upon Vanessa, a failed singer from the royal castle who makes Brooke's heart sing.
Relationships: Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	Light the Fire Bright

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writworm42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writworm42/gifts).



> Writ sent me a Tik Tok of a bard trying to seduce a wizard, and this was born. It's definitely not the weirdest thing I've written, and I hope you enjoy! I really appreciate your comments and feedback! Title from Would That I by Hozier.

Brooke always liked the quiet of her cottage in the woods. It wasn’t a complete quiet; just one with light noises fluttering through the trees, noises only Brooke could hear. There is the flow of the creek nearby, where she gathers water for her potions and washes herself. There are hoots of owls at night as they spread their wings and hunt, and the chirping of friendly birds to greet the morning sun.

There most _certainly_ was not screeching, and Brooke nearly falls out of bed at the wailing breaking through her window and assaulting her ears. 

She slips on her cloak and enters the woods to investigate. Aside from the wailing, everything is truly silent. Maybe all the birds had fled in fear of whatever creature that noise is coming from. Brooke reaches the gnarled trunk of her favorite tree, its ancient bark her favorite place to sit against and think, watching leaves sway around her, their gentle rustling calming her and giving her a renewed appreciation for the woods. 

There’s a woman by the tree, almost too small to have such a loud voice, plucking a lute and wailing along to some lament. Her words are too rough and harsh to distinguish. 

“Hello? Hello!” Brooke has to raise her voice to be heard over the woman, and she doesn’t think she’s ever spoken so loud. 

The woman jumps in the air, unfortunately still holding her instrument but at least surprised enough to stop singing. The awful ringing in Brooke’s ears fades, replaced with the steady flow of the creek. 

“Are you hurt?” Brooke asks. 

“I’m fine!” the woman replies indignantly. “What makes you think I’m hurt?”

“Well, you were…” Brooke gestures helplessly at the woman’s lute.

“I was singing!” she yells, stomping her foot and pouting. It makes her look younger and sweeter, like those horrible sounds couldn’t have come from one so gentle and innocent. 

“Oh.”

“It’s all right. I know I’m a terrible singer. That’s why the king fired me.” The woman bursts into tears, burying her face in her hands. So she was a royal singer then, in charge of entertaining the royal family.

“Please don’t cry…” Brooke says, hit with guilt. She’s had lots of humans crying while they begged her for a potion to cure sickness, or to make someone love them back, and Brooke never knew what to do in those cases except promise she’d do her best with the potion or spell. She doesn’t know what to do now either, but she can’t let this woman cry after she insulted her singing. 

“Here,” Brooke says, offering the wide sleeve of her cloak for the woman to wipe her eyes. 

The woman takes it in her short fingers and wipes her tears, and this close, Brooke can see the smooth brown of her eyes, rich like chocolate with hints of gold in the morning light.

The woman sniffles, and Brooke doesn’t even mind that she’ll have to scrub her cloak clean. “Thank you,” she says. “I was the king’s personal singer, but he fired me yesterday. I’ve just been walking around…”

“Do you have a place to stay?” Brooke can hardly believe she’s asking, can hardly believe she’ll let someone in her quiet cottage, but she asks just the same.

“No.”

“You do now. If you want to, I mean,” Brooke says, and the woman smiles. 

“I think I’ll take you up on that. I’m Vanessa.”

“Brooke.”

\---

“Are you a witch?” Vanessa asks, taking in the long table with clear bottles lined up neatly, the bowls of herbs and jars of herbs lining the walls, the large cauldron swinging merrily over the fire. “Will you show me a spell?”

“Later.” Brooke thinks of what to do next. Vanessa is shivering, and Brooke remembers her saying she’s been walking around. The autumn cold could be fierce this time of year, and Brooke wraps her thickest blanket around Vanessa. “Are you hungry?”

Vanessa nods eagerly, and Brooke goes about making tea, slicing bread, and frying some eggs over her fire. Vanessa claps when Brooke sets the plate in front of her, and Brooke has to smile. She sips at her tea as Vanessa devours her food, saying it tastes even better than the food she ate at the castle, her praise making Brooke blush whether it’s true or not. 

“Now will you show me a spell?”

“Fine.” Brooke sighs. 

“Where’s your wand?” Vanessa asks. 

“That’s a myth.” 

Brooke retreats to the corner of her cottage, skin itchy where Vanessa’s eyes are on her. She didn’t do magic in front of others if she could help it. 

But Vanessa is watching with excited eyes, hands clasped together in anticipation, and Brooke lets a tiny column of fire erupt on her palm, warming her face. 

“Wow, Brooke!” Vanessa yells, and her face shines brighter than any flame. 

\---

It’s not horrible, having Vanessa there. She talks more in one day than Brooke thinks she has in her life, but something about her rough voice is comforting, like the thick blankets Brooke knit for her bed. 

By the second week, Brooke doesn’t even think before she reaches for two tea cups at breakfast, and she shows Vanessa all the animals that live in the forest, shows her which herbs to use for which potions. 

Vanessa likes to help Brooke make soup for dinner, both of them slurping broth in between laughs, and Brooke likes it. She likes having someone there. It’s been just her in this cottage for so long that she never considered how nice it would be to have a friend.

“Can I show you a cake I learned how to make in the castle?” Vanessa asks one night.

“Is that your way of insulting my cooking?” Brooke teases. She assumes the castle would make better food than her simple soups and breads, but Vanessa gobbles them up just the same.

“Oh, of course not!” Vanessa says seriously. “The food there wasn’t that good, believe me. Your stuff is amazing. I just like something sweet now and then.”

“Well, then let’s make a cake,” Brooke declares, and Vanessa squeals with excitement. 

Vanessa gets over-eager with her stirring and gets cocoa all over the cottage floor, but when Vanessa curls her hand over Brooke’s so they can stir it together, Brooke doesn’t even mind the mess.

\---

Brooke lets Vanessa tag along on her afternoon walk, the green grass springy beneath their boots, dead leaves crunching as they walk. The sun slips through the branches, tiny slits of light bathing their faces, and it makes Vanessa more beautiful than Brooke has seen her. 

“Have you lived in the woods long?” Vanessa asks. 

“About ten years,” Brooke says. “It’s nice out here. I like the quiet. People come to me when they need help, and I like being able to help.”

She never expected glory in her position, one that came with its own dangers, but the appreciation she gets from customers is more than enough. 

Sometimes she’ll go out into the village and have a mother with young children come running up to her and give her a hug, thanking her for saving her kids when they were sick. Or a shop owner will thank her for a potion that helped them focus on their work when they were just an apprentice. Or she’ll see a happy couple, genuinely in love with each other, and knows she played a part in helping them confess their feelings. 

“It is nice out here,” Vanessa agrees. “I like your cottage more than the castle, really. It’s cozy.”

“Were you always at the castle?” Brooke asks. 

“Only a month. To be honest, I think the king hired me because he was desperate. I mean, you should’ve heard the guy he fired before me! He made me sound like an angel!” Vanessa cackles, and Brooke smiles with her. “He just found a new singer, and sent me packing. I didn’t really care, though. It never felt like home there.”

“I’m glad he did,” Brooke says, bravery running through her.

“Why?” Vanessa asks, but her grin suggests she knows. 

“Because I met you.”

Before she knows what’s happening, Vanessa is stretching up on her toes and pressing her lips to Brooke’s, and it feels better than any bit of magic Brooke has done. 

\---

“Will you play your lute?” Brooke asks one night. She and Vanessa have been in the cottage a month now, and Vanessa has decided to stay. Brooke can’t believe Vanessa will be here with her for good, to go on walks with her and help her mix potions. 

“Are you sure?”

Brooke nods. Vanessa begins to pluck the strings, uncertain at first, but growing in confidence. The music flowing from her fingers is soft, soothing, more melodic without her singing over it. 

There’s a loud, frantic knock on the door, and Brooke answers it to see a distressed Yvie, one of the villagers who likes Brooke. Brooke had made a healing potion for her girlfriend, Scarlet, when she was sick last month. 

“Everything all right?” Brooke asks. “Is Scarlet feeling better?”

“She’s fine, Brooke, but there’s another witch attacking the village. Can you help?”

“I can help.” She pulls on her cloak and looks over to Vanessa. “You can stay here, if you want. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“No, I want to come, Brooke! I can even play you some music, like I’d do for the king during jousts!”

She sounds so excited to play music that Brooke can’t bear to make her stay home. She knows she’s skilled enough to keep her safe, so she motions for her to come, both of them following Yvie out the door. 

There’s broken bits of stone from the inn thrown all over the village square, an older witch standing among them. 

“You have to stop this!” Brooke calls over to her. “People could get hurt!” 

“They didn’t care when they hurt me! They attacked my cottage, because I’m a witch!”

The witch sends a spell at Brooke, one she’s able to dull but not completely block, and a bolt of pain crackles through her. 

“Brooke, are you hurt?” Vanessa yells from the side of the pub where she stands with her lute. “Should I play some tense music, or something happy?” 

“Vanessa, I’m fine!” Brooke calls, turning to the witch, holding her hands up so the witch knows she won’t attack. “I know they hurt you, and I’m sorry. But don’t hurt more people.”

“That’s a good one, Brooke!” Vanessa says, plucking the strings happily. 

“Who’s she, the village fool?” the witch asks, sending a damage spell towards Vanessa. Brooke jumps over to her and lays a shield spell over Vanessa so she doesn’t get hurt. 

“She’s _my_ fool! And she’s not a fool at all!” Brooke shoots back, and her love for Vanessa hits her all at once, pushing her to perform a weakening spell on the witch. She collapses to the ground and vanishes in a poof, and Brooke doesn’t even pay attention to the villagers cheering. She runs to Vanessa as fast as she can, wrapping her arms around her. 

“Maybe we should have more attacks if they would get me a hug like this one,” Vanessa teases, holding Brooke tightly. 

She shouts a loud song about a brave witch winning in battle the whole walk home. 

\---

“You sure you’re not hurt?” Vanessa checks for the hundredth time as she and Brooke curl up in bed together. 

“I’m sure. Vanessa?”

“Yes?”

“Can-can you…”

“Can I what?”

“Can you sing to me?” Brooke asks softly. 

“Are you sure? I’m not a good singer, and--”

“I’m sure.”

Brooke nestles deeper into the blankets, snuggling into Vanessa’s side. Vanessa lowers her voice as she sings a song about two lovers, her words hushed and soothing, and Brooke drifts off in her arms.


End file.
